The quest of an addict to find a necessary tool. But finds part of himself.

————

Son of a Bitch, the needle broke off in my arm again. It's these cheap Insulin syringes the Nuns hand out by the park. They don't last more than two or three times then they're useless. You can't even sharpen the point on a matchbook without the flimsy needle breaking off.

Can you believe this shit, here I am complaining about a free syringe given to me out of concern by the Catholic Church for my welfare. Wait, what am I talking about? After years of battling Catholic guilt bestowed upon me by the Church and their representatives I've ended up a recovering Catholic. They owe me some type of compensation.

However, let me say this, if they're going to supply junkies with syringes they should do better product research.

Now I've got to dig this fucking needle out of my arm in the dark without tweezers or pliers. Ya know what? Forget it. It's not all that important. There's still a few I've got stuck in my arms from the past. It can wait.

I do however, need to find another syringe to get my fix. I'm sure the Nuns have packed up and are back in their Coloister to pray for the souls of God's misguided lambs. Now there's no one looking over the flock. The wolf of darkness will have his way tonight.

So I hit the angry streets pounding the pavement of desperation in search of a spike.

The problem with this Greek Tragedy is there's a drama hangover. Every junkie I ask will want a hit in trade for a syringe, and I'm not about to give away my medicine.

South of the border in every country from Mexico throughout Central and South America, I can walk into any Farmacia and buy any type of syringe over the counter no questions asked. There's also a variety of drugs available that you'd need a prescription for in the United States but not there. And all of it is so much more inexpensive. Did you ever wonder why it's so? It's because of the fucking Capitalist regime holding the entire population of the United States hostage. Free country my ass.

I can't remember the reason for why I returned. I'm sure some of you are thinking, 'If you don't like it here, then leave.' I thoroughly agree with your statement. However I am now without the funds to get my ass out. Oh ya, now I remember. I came back to collect my Social Security which I found out had been garnished by the Internal Revenue Service for filing what they determined as incorrect Tax returns. They claimed I owe them twelve thousand, six hundred and some odd dollars. God bless the USA!

Look at yourself Santiago running around this city of Vampires. They're sucking every bit of self respect from your soul. You've gotta get it together no more woe is me, cry baby bullshit. Your daughter wouldn't want you to react this way as a result of her death. This is not the manner in which to pay tribute to her life. You're using her death as a reason for your degenerate lifestyle. What a lame, poor ass excuse to justify your addiction. You fucking junkie.

"Hey Santiago, how you doing asshole?" I hear one of my many admirers holler from across the boulevard.

" I'm better than Ezra! ( Kickass Band) Who the hell are you? Do I know you?" I screamed back.

I knew who he was and I don't appreciate his company but dope makes extraneous friendships. So I disregarded my disdain and pasted a half assed smirk on my face to disguise my condition.

I hope I don't owe him money

He runs across the street to me dodging traffic with horns blaring. He also received a couple of, "You asshole!" So I scored him a seven for his city street prowess.

"So Georgie, what you up to? The only time I seem to see you is in jail. Great to see you on the outside." I extended a cordial greeting. He is a small time dealer his products are usually; Cocaine, Crack, Ecstasy and halfway decent Heroin.

" Keeping one step ahead of the Boys in Blue. Ya know, if I remember correctly you owe me twenty five bucks from like almost a year ago when you first got back."

Yes sir, what did I mention about owing money? Although the odds of me running into someone I owe money are pretty much a sure thing because

I owe money to almost everyone I've been associated with.

"That could most likely be true, I really don't remember. I can't settle up right now, my trust fund check is late."

"Funny guy as usual. Are you looking? I'm holding."

" I just told you I'm tapped out. My check is late. But would you happen to have a syringe on ya? Mine just broke off in my arm."

" Using one of them 'Nun Guns' I bet. Ya I got a couple, clean and still in the wrapper. Not from the hospital dumpsters. They're five bucks a pop though."

"Is there any way you could possibly front me for a week? I really do have a check coming next week. I'll meet you at The Mint next Friday night around eleven or so. Jessica just started working there so I'm usually there on weekends. I'd really appreciate your help man. If you can see your way clean it'd be awesome."

"I've always liked you Santiago. You've always treated me with respect. Not like the other lying, thieving junkies around this city."

"Wait, did you just call me a junkie? I'm just chipping man. I can quit this bullshit whenever I want."

" I'm sure you can give it up. No offense Santiago. I didn't mean anything by it. Listen, I'll give you a syringe and a twenty paper on the arm. You'll pay me fifty next Friday?"

" I'll be honest, I'm not sure I can pay the whole fifty but at least thirty. How does that sound?"

"See, that's what I'm talking about. You're honest with me man, up front. That's respect. Sure that'll be fine." He begins reaching up the pant leg of his shorts retrieving a syringe which he quickly stuffs into my blazer's breast pocket.

" Follow me to the Circle K on the corner. I've gotta get the dope from my mouse across the street. Come on."

I follow him the half block to the entrance of the convenience store. He motions to a kid that has to be only ten or eleven years old. Georgie holds up one finger and his mouse runs over and places the dope on a window sill of the store. Georgie nonchalantly strolls over and palms the dope then walks it over to me slipping it into my side pocket.

" So next Friday at 11:00 the Mint Bar, thirty bucks."

" Seguro carnal."

"Don't give me any of that Mexican lip. You're in the United States now."

See what I mean about extraneous friendship.

"Sorry, habit I guess."

"Let me ask ya something. So you're back with that Jessica broad? Isn't she a whore?"

"Ya but she found Jesus and gave it up. Now she's a barmaid at the Mint like I said."

" I don't know how you do it man? I couldn't be in a relationship with a bitch that was a whore."

" So you with anybody now Georgie?"

" Na, enjoying the single life. I don't need no bitch."

" Ya know what sound a sexually satisfied woman makes, Georgie?"

"No, what?"

" I'll see you next Friday, gotta giddy up. Thanks Georgie. Think about the question for a minute, you'll get it."

Maybe I won't remember my commitment next Friday. Yep but now, I'm 'Better Than Ezra'. Giddy up.

By Judge Santiago Burdon